Darling
by Shiore-Hikaru
Summary: Two years have passed since Bruce Wayne first donned the cowl and began as the vigilante known as Batman. A series of reoccurring dreams that have began since Batman's birth have been keeping Bruce from having a steady sleep. Could these nightmarish dreams really be just that or could they mean something more?


Bruce was reaching for someone. In the darkness he was reaching for someone. He was holding onto someone's hand. Grasping it for dear life! Darkness surrounded him and this person. Bats filled the night sky as this darkness threatened to suck them both. The night air was filled to the brim with piercing shrieks and the wingbeat of hundreds of frantic bats. They screamed as if demanding Bruce to let go of that hand and let the stranger be devoured whole. He was holding onto someone's hand, as if his own life hanged in the balance along with the stranger.

Bruce could barely see as the desperate bats whipped and lashed at him. Everything around the two was fast and hectic, but as soon as the stranger opened his mouth, time seemed to slow down. Bruce could feel his heart beat wildly in his chest. A complete contrast of the pulse his hand was desperately holding onto. It was calm… slow… rhythmic. The steady beat almost managed to calm down the tremors inside Bruce, almost to the point their heartbeats synced. As if this stranger's hold was becoming one with his own, a part he couldn't imagine to live without.

The stranger parted their lips, it was impossible to see him clearly in the ugly dark. The squeaks and shrieks became silent in Bruce's mind. His hold was shaking and growing weak.

"I can't wait to see you, darling…" The stranger said this with a bright tone. It completely made no sense to their horrible surroundings. How could one be happy here?! Bruce could practically feel the smile spreading on the stranger's face.

The bats were from him, the darkness below was too… They were searching for someone, waiting for someone, calling for someone… Something deep inside Bruce's chest hurt. In a flash he felt that he lost his hold to the stranger. His hand slipping away from Bruce. The figure fell and fell and fell. Freefalling into that ugly darkness and the madness below.

With heavy breathing and drenched in sweat, Bruce shot up in his bed. The ache in his heart from the dream subsided but it lingered faintly in his chest. He's been having that dream almost nightly since he'd don the cowl. It's been about two years since Bruce became the vigilante known as Batman. Gotham was starting to feel the presence of a new hero. The mobs were running scared, corrupted cops have surfaced to the light and have been removed from their positions. Good men like the recently named police commissioner James Gordon was beginning to rely on Batman as an ally rather than an enemy. Things were beginning to run smoothly for the Dark Knight but he couldn't be helped but to be plagued by these dreams. It seemed so real and new each time he closed his eyes and dreamed of the stranger being swallowed by the dark and yet… it all seemed so familiar, like some twisted sense of déjà vu that his mind was making him endure. Or was it some premonition type deal where his mind was warning him of an event yet to come? Either way Bruce didn't believe in that, such nonsense. Just a bad reoccurring dream and nothing more, honestly he should be used to them by now with all the nightmares he's witnessed on the streets of Gotham. Yet aside from the engraved image of his dead parents, the man in the dream was the only thing recently since the birth of the Batman that Bruce had thought of.

After a long day as his billionaire philanthropist persona he settled into the cave beginning his work as the Batman. He was tirelessly working to stop a budding gang or so it seemed. The Red Hood, the police had thought that this man was a leader of a large group but with much research Bruce had figured out that the Red Hood persona was actually used by many criminals in Gotham in order to hide the mastermind. There was no single Red Hood. For weeks he's been apprehending these disguised thieves and tonight the police had received an anonymous tip that the real Red Hood was hitting Ace Chemicals. Though Gordon had confidence in him, he needed the rest of the police force to see Batman was on their side. So it was Batman who would have to bring in the Red Hood, whatever means necessary.

Gunshots rang through the chemical plant and echoed into the night. Two men lay dead with their blood pooling on the concrete floor. One was escaping through the catwalk, a man disguised as the Red Hood!

"Officers put your weapons away! I have the Red Hood, he's mine!" ordered the Batman as he leaped across platforms to catch the criminal. The police stood by, holstering their weapons as they watched the vigilante chase the Red Hood.

Outside numerous squad cars awaited and surrounded the perimeter. The lights danced and bathed the area in reds and blues. The stage was set awaiting the aftermath of the night…

Bruce laid his blue eyes on the Red Hood, his image reflected off the surface of the helmet. He didn't like what he saw, deep down he didn't. He seemed like a terrible demon awaiting a sacrifice. Bruce put this thought aside and slipped back into the role of the hero about to bring a criminal to justice.

"Give it up Red Hood. You're surrounded, you might as well surrender yourself and come quietly." Something was off, Batman couldn't tell the thoughts or emotions the man must have been experiencing but his body language suggested one thing… fear. Well it was probably reasonable, he was facing jail and meeting the hand of the law but it still seemed off that a criminal mastermind seem so timid.

The man in the black suit was trembling eventually he found whether it was courage or sense he began running away. Batman gave chase, eventually they came to a part where escape was impossible. They were on a catwalk high above, suspended over a huge vat of bubbling chemicals. "Last chance Red Hood!"

"PLEASE! WAIT!"

The man began to claw at his disguise attempting to remove the helmet with no success. "Please don't hurt me I just – This is a mistake I swear!" the Red Hood cried.

In his frantic struggling he lost his footing and broke through the rusted and broken railing.

"NO!" Batman sprang into action and reached for the man and caught him by the hand. An overwhelming feeling began to resonate in Bruce. His vision began to double and spin. A deep and longing pain settled inside his chest. Flashes of darkness and bats began to bleed into Bruce's reality. No… no… NO! This couldn't end like that dream this wasn't happening!

Suddenly Batman was shocked back into reality when he felt his grip slipping, the white glove of the Red Hood was all that was let in his grasp. The darkness was calling for the man, always waiting, always longing to warp someone into an image that would mirror that of the Batman.

Burning… Searing… Broken… Damaged… Fallen. The skies began to pour heavily Gotham with rain. With each drop that cascaded the city, it almost seemed like the rain was making her grieve. Gotham always seemed beautiful when she cried.

It was a miracle that the man survived. Batman saw that the vat emptied into the river, initially it was a lost hope but the man survived. He washed up on the bank writhing and struggling. Eventually he managed to get the helmet off of his head. Bruce stared aghast of what he saw. The figure choked and trembled, eventually he settled down his eyes fixating to the river. He seemed to notice his reflection in the water. Bruce wanted to look away but found himself consumed by the man. Stark white skin, bright green hair, bloody red lips. What was the most haunting were those unnatural gleaming, acidic green eyes. The man was still trembling as the rain hit him, it started off low but… the man was laughing.

It grew, it grew until it drowned out everything around the two. It drowned out the rain as it thrashed against the earth, it drowned out the heavy footsteps of the police making their way toward them, it drowned out the loud beating that resided in Bruce's chest. The stranger finally stood on his feet, revealed and undisguised. The laughter died off leaving the two men staring at one another. Each image reflecting off their eyes, each image mirroring the other and burning into their minds.

Batman made the first move, he stepped closer and closer to the smiling man. The pale man seemed weak, his balance was about to give until the knight reached out and caught the stranger and carried him in his black clad arms.

"I – I finally see you… darling," the man whispered as he smiled weakly.

 _Darling_ … That word… " _I can't wait to see you, darling_ …"

The pale figure went limp in his arms, those red lips still smiling faintly in his trauma induced sleep. Bruce didn't know what to make of this situation. I t made no sense, it was illogical there was no way this man was the same man in his reoccurring dreams. But, he said that word, darling and was talking as if he and the stranger in his dreams were one and the same. Complete and utter madness this was, just like the man's laugh. Madness, like the darkness that seemed to be calling out to Bruce in his dreams and reality. The madness that seemed to be calmed when this figure let out his first breath of life as a laugh after his searing baptismal.

Eventually they took the man away and rushed him to the hospital. The reds and blues that filled the area eventually died away leaving the hero alone. The hurt in his chest arose once again, it wasn't as painful as before but it was longing for the stranger once more and Bruce felt that this only marked the beginning for the two.


End file.
